Alive
by thesewordsinthisworld
Summary: Derek is gone but Meredith has a moment of recognition. This is my goodbye to a show that simply isn't the same anymore.


This is my goodbye to Grey's Anatomy. The show, as stupid as it may be, is not the same show that got me through a lot of hard days, that saw me grow up. This is my goodbye to Meredith and Derek.

Meredith's POV

I wake up with a start, I see a sliver of sunlight coming through the window and I look to my side, and I see the space where Derek should be. The space I have looked for him for almost two years now.

I hear a faint "momma" and a clumsy knock—I know that this is what probably work me up in the first place. I quickly get up and open the door to see my son standing at the door. I immediately gather Bailey up into my arms and place him on the bed with me, I glance at the clock and see that it is 4:30 in the morning. He looks so vulnerable in his Thomas the Train pajamas and his wide Derek-eyes. "What is wrong sweetie?" I ask as I comb his blonde hair back—it's starting to get curlier by the day, reminding me again of Derek.

Bailey looks down at his footie pajamas and plays with the zipper. "I had a dream about daddy," he says as he looks down, like he is ashamed. My heart aches for him and I pull him closer to me. I don't know how much Bailey remembers of Derek. I know that Zola misses him everyday, but she is like me, she puts on a happy face for her brother and sister. Ellis will not have the chance to know him, and I think about that every second of everyday, but maybe that's not the one who has it the worst. Maybe it's the little boy sitting in front of me that remembers his daddy, but doesn't remember him _enough_. He knows his face and his voice, faint memories of a park and his dad picking him up from daycare, and skype chats while he was in Washington DC.

"What happened in your dream about daddy?" I ask him reassuringly.

Bailey cuddles closer to my and I kiss his forehead. Zola is my independent, strong girl and Ellis is our light, our little McDreamy, but Bailey, he's my thinker, he is always asking why and if he's not I can always tell there is about a million things going on in his head. "We played in sandbox, he made me a Castle with a fort, he said he loved us, he says El is so beautiful," Bailey whispers to me, and when he meets my eyes I can't help but shed a tear.

"Did you like that dream or did it scare you?" I ask him.

"I don't know," he admits. "I miss daddy."

I wonder if in some place that Derek is okay, that he is somewhere that he can see his children, and what good little humans they are growing to be. Did he see Zola last week get one-hundred percent on her spelling test or the way Bailey comforted a crying Alex this week or how Ellis manages to make a whole room light up with one simple step forward—her grin setting the room on fire. "What else did daddy say?" I wonder aloud.

"He said to tell mommy that he was sorry that he tried to be your knight and shine whatever," he says as he plays with the buttons on my shirt.

I look into his eyes and wonder how he could have possibly have heard this. "Really?" I ask.

"Yeah, I remembers," said Bailey sincerely.

"Honey, your daddy was my knight and shining whatever, he gave me you, and Zola, and Ellis," I tell him tearfully.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asks me.

I nod and kiss his forehead. "Of course," I tell him as I pull him closer to me. "You know that you're my baby boy, and you are a little piece of me and a little piece of your daddy and I love you very very much Bailey," I tell him.

"I love you, mommy," Bailey whispers.

I fall asleep that night for the first time in years, with someone by my side. Even though it is my three year old son, I realize that my kids are what I have in this life. They are me. They are Derek.

I hold Bailey until I hear his breathing get heavier and I stay up all night watching my son, and wondering if it were possible that he talked to Derek tonight.

When I wake up in the morning Bailey is sitting at the edge of the bed, clutching a grey dog that Derek bought him when he was a newborn—ironically named, Fish. "Morning Bailey," I tell him as I kiss his head.

Bailey rolls over and looks at me, at it moments like these where I wish—more than anything that I could get inside that head of his—he is much more empathetic than a lot of kids his age are. "Can we get Zozo and El?" he asks.

I smile at him, and tuck a curl behind his ear. I have today off for the first time in weeks, and it comes as a complete relief. "Of course, race you to the girls' room," I tell him as I jump out of bed—trying to cheer my little guy up.

We stumble down the hall into the girls room to find Zola awake and drawing while Ellis is gurgling in her crib. "Ba-ie!" she shouts as Bailey runs up to the bars of her crib, Ellis erupts in smiles. Zola looks up from her picture and looks at me with a smile. "Good morning mommy," she welcomes me. "I drew a picture!"

"Oh, Zozo let's see it," I say as I join her at the small table.

"This is me, and you, and Bailey, and Ellis, and up there in the clouds, that's daddy," Zola says sincerely. It has been weeks since there has been a day that the kids have so consistently brought up Derek. "It's beautiful baby, is that where you think that daddy is? Up in the clouds?" I ask her quietly, Bailey is trying to understand what he is saying as he stands by Ellis, the lines of his forehead scrunching up in confusion.

"Well, I asked Richard," she says very seriously. I smile because she addresses Richard so formally—she just picked up from what we all call him. "He picked me up from school because you were working hard, and I looked at the clouds and I asked him where daddy is if he is not here," she explains, her face full of kindness but her voice tinged with sadness. "He said he is in the clouds helping us. Is that true?"

I look from her to Bailey to Ellis who is sucking her thumb. I don't know, I don't know, I wish I could protect them from all of this. "Yes, Zozo, that's where daddy is," I tell her as I take her in for a hug.

"I miss him," she tells me.

"Me too honey," I whisper.

I spend the entire day with my kids. I listen to Ellis' babbles, Zola's endless stories, and watch Bailey build a fort out of all the couches in the living room. I see how he Bailey and Zola are so tender with their little sister.

It is the little things I remember.

I see Derek's kindness in Bailey, in the way he holds his sister's hands as she stumbles across the floor, never getting impatient. His kindness and goodness is undeniable.

I see Derek in the dumb jokes that Zola tells, and they way she knows when I am upset. How she so quickly became my blanket of comfort when I needed her.

I see Derek in the way that Ellis smiles, and in her eyes. I see all of the determination, the stubbornness that hides behind her head of curls. Curls like Derek's.

I see all of this, and I realize that my husband is not really gone at all. He is very much alive in my children.

I wouldn't label myself the maternal type.

I wouldn't even say I love kids.

But I love these three kids, more than anyone could ever know.

They are the combinations of the love of my life.

It takes me back to the day that Derek said that if something were to happen to him, he didn't want it to be just me.

Well, Derek, you got your wish. I am far from alone. I hear you in the pattering feet, and in the laughter that fills our house, I feel you in the operating room. I sometimes hear your voice coaxing me forward—saying "breathe Meredith, I am right here."

Yes, my husband is gone. But he is very much alive, and as I look at my children, I am reminded that so am I.


End file.
